


Earl Grey

by eternalscout



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 10:28:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternalscout/pseuds/eternalscout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermann has a nightmare, courtesy of the Drift dredging up old memories. Newt helps him forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Earl Grey

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone. This fic is a loose sequel to Hive Mind, but I don't feel you have to read the other first. All you really need to know is that Newt's been experiencing side effects due to having drifted twice with his makeshift Pons system, including still having a slight mental connection to Hermann.
> 
> Warning: There are some instances of bullying, in the event this is a trigger for anyone.

He shot down the hallway, legs burning and chest heaving with the exertion. He wasn’t one of those boys that was born a natural athlete. Strategy had always been more his style and interest. Strategy is what he relied on now. He couldn’t outrun them, but he could find somewhere to hide. He would stay there until they lost interest.

He realized that developing a habit of mentally mapping out escape routes throughout the school was absurd. But when he’d gone to the administration and they’d insisted that his tormenters were just “boys being boys,” he’d realized he had no other options. No one was going to stop them. The best course of action he had was to graduate as quickly as possible. The hope he wouldn’t have to deal with this anymore as an adult was one of the few things that kept him going.

Reaching the classroom he’d used the past several times, Hermann caught the doorframe, jerking to an abrupt halt even as his arm burned in protest. Hand shaking, he reached for the knob, the knot in his stomach easing when it turned easily in his hand. He opened it as quietly as he was able, lest he draw their attention. A quick glance around the hallway reassured him he was alone and he stepped inside. His stomach dropped when he came face to face with his tormentors, their boyish faces distorted by the disdainful sneers they all wore.

He dove back toward the hall, but a hand tightened in the back of his shirt and he was hauled back by their leader, a boy nearly eight years older than himself.

“Why don’t we congratulate our friend here on being first in the class,” he sneered as Hermann’s arms were wrenched backward and he was forced down to his knees.

A strangled sound escaped him as he jerked upright and out of the dream. He blinked owlishly in the darkness as his mind struggled to catch up with reality, heart still hammering hard in his chest. His pajamas and even the sheets were soaked with perspiration. He swore he smelled the sour stink of his own fear on the air.

He took deep breaths, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to his palms. As the fear leached away, it left loathing in its place. He had thought being an adult meant not having to deal with these things anymore. That by some stroke of karma, his life would have turned completely around after so many years of torment. That wasn’t how the real world worked. 

The boys who had made his life a living hell had gone on to become respected members in their fields, and probably looked back on their years in boarding school with a fondness he would never be able to muster. Not only that, but he had been the one to wind up crippled. Not them. They were whole. They had their wives, their children, their high-level jobs, their bodies. They would grow old and fat without so much as a blip of discomfort.

Heart rate finally normal, he pushed back the sheets with trembling hands and swung his legs off of the bed. He fumbled for his cane in the darkness, swearing when he knocked it to the ground instead. Once he got it back to rights, he moved awkwardly to his feet, leg stiff as it always was after two many hours lying prone.

Hermann made it to the small bathroom of his quarters, turning the faucet on and splashing his face with cold water. It helped a little and he yanked a towel from its hook, dabbing at the droplets that ran down his face and threatened to soak into the collar of his night shirt.

It was ridiculous. He had helped defeat one of the greatest threats to mankind, monsters that left most weak in the knees, and yet his nightmares were filled with adolescent boys from decades ago. His lip curled back in his reflection. Disgusting and juvenile. He was a Gottlieb, for God’s sake. If his father saw him now…

He shook his head, clearing the thoughts. Sleep was a pipe dream now, regardless of whether or not it was four in the morning. Hermann moved back into his room, taking a fresh set of clothes from his drawers and seating himself on the edge of his bed. He unbuttoned his night shirt and slid it from his shoulders, replacing it with a white button-up and pulling a gray sweater on over that. It was always so damned cold in the Shatterdome. He settled on a black blazer for now, pointedly ignoring the leather jacket Newton had insisted on foisting on him. They may have been fucking, but they were not and would never be at that stage in their relationship. No matter what Newton seemed to believe.

He lifted his hips to slide out of his pajama bottoms, letting them pool around his feet as his fingers traced the scar tissue that still made his leg so ugly. Newton claimed the permanent brand on his skin reminded him of his tattoos. That it was just a reminder of what he’d been through and survived. In a way, Hermann supposed he was right. The bone had been shattered during one of the earlier Kaiju attacks, back when he’d been more involved with the the Jaegers. He’d been so young then. So foolishly convinced of the presumed immortality of youth. 

Pain was something he’d long been accustomed to, but death? Part of him had been grateful he’d been in the hospital for so long, if only so he hadn’t been forced to look at any of Newton’s Kaiju parts. He’d regretted it when he’d finally made it back. He realized then that he took no small amount of satisfaction in seeing the monster that had hurt him cut into pieces and kept in glorified jars. He’d never cared for bullies. It was his primary motivation for becoming involved with the Jaeger program in the first place. The Jaegers were everything he wasn’t. Powerful. Graceful. Unmatched by only but the best opponents.

Hermann tugged his slacks on and fastened his belt before leaning over to pull his shoes on and tie them. Dressed, he felt more in control. His uniform, as it were, was like his armor. Whether or not Newton claimed he dressed like his grandfather, he knew how people viewed him. He had no interest in becoming a rock star, but he liked knowing that his attire reflected his mind, however stereotypically. People saw him and knew what division he was part of. Not one of the many grunts, but a man of science.

He slipped from his room, locking the door behind him. The halls were empty, just as he’d expected. There was no longer any need for constant vigilance. The Shatterdome wouldn’t be around much longer, not now that a new era had begun. People wouldn’t want the reminder and the space was useful for little else. He and Newton were set to leave by the end of the month. The knowledge still sat oddly with him. Weeks before he had been under the impression he and Newton would be parting ways. Hermann had been packing to return to Germany. And yet here they were, moving instead to England. Newton had never been, but more importantly some of the best doctors resided there. Though Newton’s continued post-drift symptoms had eased, Hermann intended to make certain any further seizures or otherwise would be properly attended to.

The kitchen was equally empty when Hermann reached it. He let himself in and filled one of the kettles before setting it on the stove and turning it on high. He studied the contents of one of the quickly dwindling pantries, settling on a generic brand of Earl Grey that looked the least disappointing. When they made it to England, he knew where his first stop would be. There was no sense in adding to their luggage now, not when shipping what they already owned would be expensive enough.

He placed the tea bag into a tin mug and poured the boiling water over it, leaning back against the counter as he waited for it to steep.

He and Newton would be living together there. They had already found an apartment. Two bedrooms, not that Hermann expected they would continue to sleep separately for long. More and more often, it seemed like Newton managed to wheedle his way into Hermann’s bed. He’d always known Newton was the more physical of the two of them, but at least Newton had allowed him some space as he adapted to this new chapter in their lives. At the very least, Newton could keep his less savory belongings in the extra bedroom.

Hermann glanced at his watch before fishing the tea bag out, tossing it into the trash and picking up the cup. He very nearly took his first sip before he set it back down again. They were no longer at war. There was time for indulgences. He added a little milk and sipped, sighing softly.

“I figured you’d be here when I didn’t find you in your room.”

Hermann’s grip tightened on the mug’s handle rather than releasing it. Years of Newton sneaking up on him, intentionally or not, had trained him well. He turned, lips pursing as he took in Newton’s disheveled appearance. His hair stuck straight up, though it wasn’t on purpose. He’d managed to find his glasses, but hadn’t bothered to dress. Hermann knew enough about superheroes and their logos to know his pajama shirt and bottoms did not match. As if that weren’t bad enough, he was barefoot as well. How Newton managed to walk around in so little was beyond him. His feet had to be freezing.

“What are you doing up?”

Newt shrugged, eyes dropping to the tea. “Dunno. Think it might be our connection.”

Hermann sighed heavily. He never should have admitted he could still feel the connection between them, even two months after their drift. Newton seemed to have zeroed in on it, commenting on Hermann’s physical and mental states far too often. The link was stronger for Newton than for himself. Hermann had an occasional inkling about what Newton was feeling, though he was more in tune in the moments before Newton had one of his seizures. And when they were having sex.

Undeterred, Newt sidled up to him, shoulder pressing against his. Hermann sighed, lifting his arm to wrap it around the other man’s shoulders. Contentment wafted from Newt, somehow easing the tension Hermann hadn’t realized he was still carrying in his shoulders.

“You want to talk about it?” Newt prompted.

“About what?”

“Your nightmare.”

Hermann stiffened beside him.

“It’s cool, dude. The pilots said this kind of thing happens. When you drift, you unearth all the shit you tried to bury from your past. Sometimes that means good dreams, sometimes it doesn’t.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” It was bad enough he’d had to relive it. It was almost unbearable to know Newton had seen it as well.

Newt tilted his head so he could press a scratchy kiss to Hermann’s cheek.

“You need to shave, Dr. Geiszler.”

“You like it,” Newt retorted.

Hermann would never admit that. Newt took enough pride in his general disarray already. He didn’t need further encouragement. And Hermann had no intention of living with someone who looked like a homeless person.

Newt rested his head on Hermann’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around his middle and earning an arched brow for his trouble. His clasped hands were a heavy weight against Hermann’s hip.

“What?”

“What in heaven’s name are you doing?”

“Seriously, dude? It’s called a hug.”

“You are being ridiculous.”

“Hey, I’ll stop when you hug me back.”

“That is not going to happen.”

Newt leaned in further, nose bumping against the hollow of his throat. Hermann clenched his jaw at the small spark of heat it sent through him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he acknowledged the fact that there wasn’t much else to do at this hour.

“C’mon, dude. Don’t leave me hanging.”

Knowing he wasn’t likely to get the other man to leave him alone otherwise, Hermann reluctantly shifted so that his arm, disengaged by Newton’s movements, was wrapped around the other man’s waist. The skin there was soft, not flabby, but not the svelte of the pilots and grunts. Much about Newt’s body was soft, a stark contrast to the hard planes of Hermann’s.

“Was that so hard?” Newt murmured, warm breath fanning across Hermann’s throat.

Hermann grunted in answer, sipping at the last of his tea.

Newt slid around to the front of him, never letting go in the process. Warm lips pressed along the side of Hermann’s throat and heat began to pool in his belly.

“Dr. Geiszler, may I remind you that we are in the kitchen. A public area.”

“Never would’ve guessed, Herm,” he said before his teeth sank into his pulse, drawing a startled cry.

“Dr. Geiszler!” Hermann protested. “People will see!”

“Kind of the point. Gotta stake my claim and all that.”

Hermann tried to bat him away, but Newt was undeterred, sucking on the spot in a way that threatened to turn Hermann’s knees to jelly.

“What you need, my friend, is a distraction,” Newt said as he pulled back, studying his work. 

Hermann scowled back at him, expression all the angrier because he could feel how flushed his face and throat were. Newt grinned back at him before dropping to his knees and fumbling with the buckle of Hermann’s belt.

“Newton!” Hermann snapped, voice imperious.

“Hey! You didn’t call me Dr. Geiszler for once,” he offered, fingers expertly undoing the fastenings of his slacks. He yanked them and Hermann’s underwear down to his knees in a single motion. His lips were on Hermann’s cock before Hermann, mortified, could so much as reach for clothes.

Hermann sucked in a startled gasp as Newt’s tongue brushed against the underside of his cock and he was alarmed to realize that, for once, he wasn’t the one in control. Of course that concern was quickly swept away as Newton took him deeper, skimming his teeth along him in the process.

Hermann’s back pressed almost painfully into the counter behind him. It was probably the only thing keeping him upright. He panted softly as his fingers slid into Newt’s hair, desperate for something to ground himself in what felt more like fantasy than reality. Things like this didn’t happen to him. He wasn’t the type to be blown in the kitchen by someone who couldn’t keep his hands off of him long enough for them to go somewhere private. He’d never felt particularly attractive, even less so since his leg was injured. And yet here, now, Newt was doing everything in his power to try to convince him otherwise.

This wasn’t the first time Newt’s lips had been around him. Hermann got no small amount of satisfaction from knowing the other man was quiet for once because his cock was in his mouth.

Newt hummed softly around him and the vibrations shot up Hermann’s spine, making it even more difficult to breathe properly. He trembled for an entirely different reason now and his fingers tightened in Newt’s hair when Newt leaned back enough to suck on just the tip of him.

Newton. Hermann rolled the syllables around in his mouth, tongue moving as if he were to speak them. He’d started referring to him that way in his mind a while ago, but saying it was an entirely different matter. It implied a level of intimacy he never thought he would have been comfortable with. 

A groan escaped him as Newt took him deep again. He felt Newt’s fingers brush against his balls, though Newt sidestepped them and instead teased the sensitive skin behind with small circles of his fingertips.

Hermann’s thoughts scattered as he began to tense, his inner reflection lost entirely when Newt swallowed around his cock. Hermann came with a start, fingers tightening in Newt’s hair to what had to be a painful degree. “N-Newton,” he gasped as the last of the aftershocks faded, leaving him feeling both exhausted and utterly sated.

Newt didn’t draw back until he was entirely spent, looking far too proud of himself. His lips were slightly swollen, their color a darker red than usual. Hermann caught himself staring at them, his own mouth going dry.

He stood there as Newt moved back to his feet, allowing the other man to put his clothing back to rights. Newt even went so far as to tuck his shirt and vest back into his pants before he did them up and fastened his belt. He’d hardly finished before Hermann’s hands wrapped tightly around the back of his head, bringing him in for a teeth clacking kiss. 

Newt offered him a lopsided grin in the aftermath. “So, my room or yours?”

Hermann took hold of his cane, shaking his head in mild disbelief. The man was insatiable. 

“Whichever is closer.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this! If you're a tumblr addict (like me), you can find me at therudesea.tumblr.com.


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